


Never Hike Alone

by LouisianaPurrchase



Series: Bad End [2]
Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Blood and Violence, Canon-Typical Violence, Choking, Forced Eye Contact, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Non-Consensual Blow Jobs, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Predator/Prey, Rape/Non-con Elements, Size Difference, Spit As Lube, Squicky, [final pam voice] god forgive me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2020-02-16 10:55:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18690070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LouisianaPurrchase/pseuds/LouisianaPurrchase
Summary: Jake’s breath hitched, and he could see the Trapper getting closer. Closer. The Killer was only an inch away, or less, and he was staring right at Jake. In the dim lighting of the basement, the Trapper seemed to smile.Jake shouldn’t have gone alone.





	Never Hike Alone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [the lord jesus amen please don’t smother me in my sleep](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=the+lord+jesus+amen+please+don%E2%80%99t+smother+me+in+my+sleep).



> Wow I get fucked over so often in the game I decided to make it a literary adventure too.

Jake shouldn’t have left the others, he shouldn’t have gone to work on the gen alone. But he never felt comfortable being around other people, and so he slipped away. He went into the Killer’s Shack, and quietly worked on the generator, and didn’t notice the sounds of footsteps over the gradual roar of machinery. The sound of a heartbeat in his ears, though, he could hear that.

And he panicked.

Jake crouched into the basement, slowing his breathing and hoping he was fast enough. They never checked the basement, never. He’d be safe. And as the heartbeat grew louder, and louder, almost an engine howling, Jake pressed himself still against the wall and waited. 

Heavy footsteps overhead. Boots, and then the generator being kicked, and a vague sort of unhappy grunt. There was the telltale sound of a bear trap being set, and that answered the question of Who. It was the Trapper.

So Jake waited for him to leave. 

And waited.

But… it seemed the Trapper wasn’t leaving.  
Jake’s clenched his eyes shut, holding his breath. The footsteps were pacing around. There was the sound of a locker opening, closing, and then a pause. A pause that sent iciles into Jake’s veins and terror into his heart. Because after that pause, the Trapper began to descend the stairs. 

Jake was trapped.

The Trapper was coming down the stairs, and there wasn’t enough time to jump into a locker, and he couldn’t even move to a corner to hope to bolt. He could only pray he was small, and quiet, and hidden. That the Trapper couldn’t smell his fear, or hear the way his heart whimpered. Jake was a silent shadow, and yet, it didn’t feel like enough.

It wouldn’t be enough.

The Trapper stood in the basement. He was as tall and imobile, and worst was that he was patient. He was curious. He was slowly looking around the basement, his eyes lingering on potential hiding places, and Jake didn’t tense when the Trapper stared right at him, but it was a near thing. But then, the Trapper’s gaze slid away, and Jake felt relief. He hadn’t been seen. He was safe.

Until the Trapper stepped forward.

From his place pressed against the corner wall, Jake watched the Trapper get closer. And closer. And Jake couldn’t even breathe, his chest starting to burn, and he refused to breathe, he couldn’t give himself away. The Trapper was only an inch apart from him now, hot breath on Jake’s neck, and he was staring right at Jake.

It was agony. Jake’s chest seized, once, twice, and he held out for as long as he could-

Until he finally let out that wheezing keen.

And the Trapper seemed to smile.

Up the blade went, and then, embedding right in the wall, and Jake gave a strangled cry, holding his arms up to try and defend himself. But the Trapper didn’t try to strike him. No, he just loomed, and got closer and closer, and inhaled in a deep, shuddering way, looming over Jake. Jake could feel the solid chest pressed against him, almost crushing, and as the Trapper grabbed both of Jake’s hands, the boy began to thrash.

“Let me go!” the first words Jake had spoken all trial. The Trapper squeezed Jake’s wrists so hard the bone rubbed together, and then he held both wrists in a single, crushing grip, leaving one hand free to press against Jake’s neck. Jake struggled; he didn’t know what was happening, but he had a terrible feeling, pooling low in his gut, as the Trapper seemed to rub his hand on Jake’s skin, and that’s when Jake knew he had to get out, now. 

“Help! So-someone!” Jake screamed as loud as he could. Meg could try and distract the Killer, and let Jake break free, or Tapp, or Quentin- Jake could break out and they could escape and whatever was about to happen wouldn’t. But then, the Trapper enclosed his entire hand around Jake’s throat, and suddenly Jake couldn’t even breathe. His words all died off. He still tried, though, to continue screaming, to continue thrashing, but it was useless. All muted and no one to hear. No one was going to come and save him from this. His chest started to burn again, and his vision was beginning to go blurred at the edges, when finally, the Trapper stopped choking him. 

But that wasn’t necessarily a good thing.

Jake was thrown onto the ground- hard, cold, unyielding. He scrambled back as much as he could, but the Trapper just loomed over him, staring. Jake let out a little cough as he regained his breath.

“Please-” he began, but the sound died off, because he knew there was no use in begging. He wasn’t even sure what he was begging for, “Don’t…”

The Trapper leaned down. In one motion, the Killer picked Jake up and forced him onto his knees. The air in Jake’s lungs all whooshed out, and yet he still struggled, refusing to give up, refusing and terrified and defiant. It didn’t last long. Especially not when the Trapper held his cleaver out threateningly, the tip of it at Jake’s neck, and Jake finally stilled. He looked up at the Killer with wide, fearful eyes. He knew what was coming. He didn’t want to know. He knew. He wanted to scream, or cry, or crawl up against a wall and pray the Trapper wouldn’t touch him. Terror pooled in his stomach, ice cold and hollow, and there were some tears that stung his eyes, bitter and pained.

“No-”

The Trapper didn’t care.

A part of his overalls were pulled away. A huge, angry cock now greeted Jake, obviously erect. There was a bit of precum at the tip, and the Trapper shifted slightly, almost eager. Jake pressed his mouth closed. But the blade was at his neck again, and Jake still refused, until the rusty metal began to cut a small gash and Jake relented, crying out, and that’s when the Trapper pushed forward. The dick pressed into Jake’s mouth, quickly filling the space, only halfway in and Jake was already struggling to breathe. His hands were pushing against the Trapper’s legs, but the Trapper was eager to get started, and so he grabbed a fistful of Jake’s hair and pressed forward some more. His cock slid down Jake’s throat, choking, and Jake felt his eyes beginning to tear up again, his own hands holding fistfuls of the Trapper’s overalls, as the Trapper began to thrust.

It was a sloppy motion. The sound of flesh slapping filled the basement, the length throbbing in Jake’s mouth, the Trapper making small groans of pleasure. In, out, saliva trickling down the sides of Jake’s lips, the cock making his jaw ache and his lungs continue to burn. Every time it slid down his throat, Jake felt like he was going to gag, and it only got worse as the Trapper picked up speed. Jake’s voice let out little cries, muffled and muted, and that only seemed to turn the Killer on more, forcing Jake up and down his length and brutalizing his throat. His vision tinted dark around the edges. The smell of musk, and blood, filling his nostrils. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to press away from the Trapper, tried to fight back, however weakly, and yet, all the Trapper did was quietly laugh. As if in retaliation, he slammed Jake down the full way, right down to the hilt, and Jake’s eyes flew wide at the complete lack of oxygen. He began to struggle harder. The Trapper let out a low and satisfied groan, and right as Jake felt his arms beginning to go slack, the Killer’s cock throbbed. 

No, no-

But it didn’t matter. All at once, the come surged down Jake’s throat, into his mouth, and Jake was forced to start swallowing the thick liquid, or suffocate, some of it spilling down his chin. Abruptly, the Trapper pulled out, and the last of his load spewed across Jake’s face in stringy ropes. Jake could only hack and cough, holding his neck, his lungs burning anew and a sickly taste lingering in his mouth. The Trapper yanked Jake’s head up. Dark eyes stared down into Jake’s own, and that’s when Jake knew that despite everything, it wasn’t over yet. It wouldn’t be.

“No…” Jake choked, pathetic sound, “Please-”

The Trapper didn’t care, he’d never care. He only cared about seeing Jake suffer, and Jake was going to suffer. Down, he forced the boy, until Jake’s back was pressed against the basement floor, and his legs were spread in front of himself. Jake hands were free, though, and he threw punch after punch at the Trapper, trying to force him away, or do anything. Not that it mattered. The Trapper just grabbed Jake’s hands and squeezed until there a sound of bones beginning to groan, and Jake writhed, mouth open in a frozen scream just as the Trapper let go. 

Jake’s head was still swimming, as the Trapper brought his cleaver up, and down, tearing into Jake’s pants and cutting them at the crotch. Jake still managed a few token sounds of protest, of begging, and he kept hoping that someone would come and help him. That one of his team would notice that he was gone. That something, anything- but, no, nothing. Jake could only watch as the Trapper lowered himself down, cock throbbing with anticipation at Jake’s hole. 

The only lube was from Jake’s saliva, and Jake’s chest twisted with pain and fear, as the tip pressed itself against Jake’s hole. Jake wanted to close his eyes- but when he tried, the Trapper would crush his wrist again, forcing Jake’s eyes to remain open, locked with the Trapper’s. 

After a few moments of resistance, the Trapper’s cock managed to push forward. And it hurt. Jake’s back arched at the sharp pain, his mouth going open, and then the Trapper pulled back just a little, before plunging forward again. Each time, getting a little bit more in. Each inch, incredibly painful, the girth feeling like it was going to tear Jake apart, tears actively pouring from his eyes and cries slipping from his mouth with every motion. Each one only seemed to encourage the Killer more. He pushed deeper, and deeper, uncaring of Jake’s pain and gradually dying screams, slowly being replaced by defeated sobs. Until, finally, the hilt of his member was pressed again Jake’s ass. That was the only moment of pause. Only a moment, before the Trapper pulled back, and then slammed forward.

The pace was brutal. Each thrust tore into Jake, too full and too empty, the sounds of flesh slapping filling the basement. Each time the Trapper plunged forward, Jake would let out an involuntary cry, the sounds all melting together with the Trapper’s groans and huffs. He picked up speed. Jake’s voice, hoarse. The Trapper just kept going, and going, and as Jake’s eyes rolled up to the ceiling, the Trapper squeezed his wrist so hard that Jake felt one of the bones finally snap. And that jolted Jake back, if only a little, as he gave a half scream and twisted himself. The Trapper laughed and laughed and went even faster, grunting and groaning and so invigorated by Jake’s pain. 

It felt like it would never end. Jake just wanted it to be over. The worst part was when the thrusts struck somewhere deep, and an almost jolt of pleasure would shock through him, there and gone and disgusting and the Trapper just laughing. Jake wasn’t sure how much more he could take.

“Please-” he begged.

And for better or for worse, that finally did it. The Trapper pulled out as much as he could, and then rammed himself forward, down to the hilt again, and Jake’s mouth opened with that soundless scream, his eyes blurry and unfocused, as the Trapper’s cock throbbed viciously and unloaded. The come, filling Jake up as much as it could, and then some of it pooling out onto the ground, more and more, until finally, it ended, and the Trapper slowly pulled out.

Jake’s breathing was quiet, pained. He wanted to curl in on himself and he wanted to die, he wanted this all to end. He didn’t even have the energy to flinch as the Trapper leaned in. Not even when the Trapper rose a hand up, and then set on the side of Jake’s face, trailing down for half a second before pulling away.

Jake didn’t know what would happen next. And he just, he just didn’t care. Not anymore. He could only close his eyes, and give in to to the urge to sleep. If he would wake up at the campfire, or somewhere else with the Trapper, Jake just begged for unconsciousness and a moment of release from the pain.

The Entity obliged. And Jake’s world was darkness and calm.

**Author's Note:**

> Lube don’t work like that. Don’t fuckin use your spit as lube in actual consensual sex, or everyone will have a bad time. Practice safe sex or I will beat you with a wooden spoon like a portly Italian grandma


End file.
